Absolute
by Chameleon Eyes
Summary: The only man she had loved was not a man of noble blood, though he was nobler than any noble could aspire, but a man born in the small village of Ordon. Most approved of the relationship, admiring how a queen pure of heart was in love with the hero who saved her. Some were angry that she had set her eyes upon him rather than themselves. Post Twilight Princess. Link x Zelda.
1. Chapter 1: Twilight's End

**A/N: **I am rewriting the previous chapters (1 & 2) due to too much exposition, which is a very boring way to read and write. So here are more details in the rewritten version! I want this romance story to be well-written or as perfect as I can write it!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Legend of Zelda_ or any of its characters.**  
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><p><strong>Absolute<strong>

_by Chameleon Eyes_

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><p><strong>~ 1 ~<strong>

**Twilight's End  
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><p><em>Wisdom is not knowledge. Knowledge is not power. Wisdom is true power and belongs solely to those who are born to rule. <em>

**~::-x-::~**

Twilight illuminated the sky. Its dull light cast dreary shadows upon the soft greens of the land, turning even the liveliest colours into a sombre blue.

Within the tallest tower of the castle stood the new queen. Sorrow filled her, causing her brows to draw and her delicate lips to twist in a frown. It was an unfamiliar emotion for one who had recently been crowned queen. She should be grateful for surviving the Twilight War, blissful for finally wearing the crown on her head, a symbol for a time of peace and prosperity. But for an inexplicable reason, heaviness weighed her heart.

"It must be the twilight," she whispered to herself. Its soft blue glow made her remember all of it, all the men who ascended into the heavens, all of the people who cowered in fear. And their princess—helpless and useless in their hour of need.

With a sad smile, she remembered the departure of the twilight princess and the departure of the hero. It was a shame she would never see her again, a regret that she had no words of comfort for either of them. Her leave was inevitable and his heartbreak inexorable.

It was especially evident in their last conversation together.

In the silken sands of the Gerudo Desert, the hero and princess sat down by a rare oasis for a quick break of traveling on foot. The sun had set and twilight hovered in the horizon.

She took off her boots and dipped bare feet into the pool before them. Its crisp coolness relaxed her sore feet from walking in the unbearable sun. She looked at him to see if he was unscathed by Midna's unexpected departure.

He lied on the cluster of grass by a palm tree, his eyes gazing at the sky. "Somewhere, Midna is with us right now," he said, placing his hands beneath his neck. A small smile curved his thin lips. "The sky is beautiful and melancholic when there are no stars and there is no sun."

She tilted her head to gain a better view of the clear sky. "When the sun sets and the moon has yet to awaken, this is the time when light merges with shadow."

He was silent for a moment, staring at the skies with such fondness. She knew why he gazed at the sky with longing in his eyes. It was mysterious, afar, and solitary. It reminded him of the twilight princess.

"There is a feeling of sorrow lingering in the air," he spoke at last. "Do you not feel it, Zelda?"

The way he said her name startled her. She was unaccustomed to the absent title of princess. The feeble detail did not irk her, in a way, she was grateful for his informality.

"This is the time of reflection and solitude," she spoke calmly. She stared at the reflection of the pool. "The light has faded and with it the toils of life."

"Reflection…" he murmured.

She caught his eyes brighten at the cluster of twin palms. She envied the way he experienced the world—alert and focused, noticing the tiniest of details everywhere he went. He felt everything, saw everything, heard the entire world. Nature was at peace with him as he was at peace with nature.

"What is reflection?" he at last asked, a perplexed expression wrinkling his brow. "Is it taking the time to evaluate strengths and weaknesses? To review the past as if it is the present?"

"Reflection is acquiring wisdom of oneself," she said. "As the old saying goes, 'the wisest men are the most content.'"

"And how does one obtain happiness?"

"It is subjective. Happiness differentiates among people. Some desire the material things, the things which are fleeting and have no eternal value. Others have delight in understanding the world. As life progresses, their understanding only grows. It does not disappear."

"The hermits of old are happy amongst themselves," he observed.

"The hermits are such men who seek to understand the world." She sat straight, interested in his enthusiasm. "Legend says the ancient Sage of the Forest sought wisdom within the depths of the trees. Each day he would sit beneath an old willow with a gnarled trunk. Eventually, he focused internally and understood his role in the universe. By reflecting within, he heard the whispers of the forest and became more aware of his duty as the Sage of the Forest. He finally achieved insight through solitude and reflection."

"Perhaps the hermits learned this simplistic lifestyle from him."

She nodded. "It is what Auru told me. He once lived in the woods."

"He is a wise man," he commented absently. His eyes darted this way and that in nature's presence, as if some danger lurked near, or perhaps it was to admire the beauty of the evening sky. "Such wisdom could be of use to me." He chuckled, enjoying the joke to himself.

"You are wise," she said immediately. "Do not think for a second you are not."

"I am not as wise as you," he mumbled weakly. It was not meant for her ears, yet she heard it and felt her heart fall. "I may explore the forest one day. Perhaps live a simple life in it, a simpler life than one in Ordon."

It was to be a joke, but she knew he was not joking. He lied still, a little too stiff, as he said it. In the outline of the stars, she saw his shoulders slightly quiver from the night's cold—or was it the suppressed sobs from the departure of a loved one?

"If it is what you desire, than I hope you catch the forest's whispers and keep them. And one day," she said. "You will look back with a smile." She withdrew her feet from the pool, the drops darkening the sand. The hem of her dress was stained from the desert's wind and her boots dirtied with hardened mud. "Shall we head back?" she asked, pulling on her footwear.

"By all means," he nodded, rising from his bed of grass.

For a moment, they walked together in silence. The twilight drifted into the horizon and transformed into an inky sky. Diamonds winked in the night and the moon sliced a luminous crescent in the darkness.

"Link," she said, barely audible. She watched as her feet treaded among the desert's sands.

He looked at her, his mouth a thin line. There was apprehension in her voice as she said his name.

She felt frozen as he gazed at her with attentiveness. She knew she was prying within his private realm; it was something so personal that it was inappropriate and too personal among acquaintances. But she found she could not quench her curiosity. "What will you do now? After all of this has passed, where will you be?"

He smiled, as if he expected this question. "To Ordon," he said simply. "Where else will I be?"

She said nothing of his answer. They both knew he would venture into the woods, for why else would he gain interest in the Sage of the Forest?

There was a desire for him to reach his own enlightenment. Though his adventures in Hyrule's twilight provided sufficient growth, he was not yet complete. To him, the woods would allow him to contemplate all he had done, to fully understand the world in his own view. It was an opportunity to comprehend his own emotional turmoil and fight his inner demons of the past.

And now, as she stared at the ink-stained sky, the overwhelming sadness enveloped her whole, until her heart ached and she stifled a sob, and she, surprised that a tear threatened to leak onto her pale cheek, wiped it away furiously, ashamed she was so selfish to have such a hope he would be there, smiling and kneeling before her.

"You will come to my coronation in the summer?" she had asked. They took yet another rest at Lake Hylia where greens surrounded the soft hush of the waves. "I would like to knight you soon after."

He said nothing, his stone silence a wall between them. "Perhaps," he said. The water reflected the sun's rays and bounced off his golden hair, his eyes locked onto its fluctuating surface. Such beautiful eyes, so bright and full of life at times, and at others, they hardened, cold and relentless, churning and raging like a storm in the sea.

With a soft smile, he turned to her, his voice calm and collected. "I cannot break a vow to my queen, but I will assure you, one day I shall return and be knighted by your grace."

She knew why he had not promise her, for he knew he would break it if he had. In the depths of her heart, she knew she could forgive him, yet she hated he did not appear as she expected, hated the disappointment he gave her; but most of all, she hated herself for acting selfish, wishing for him to be here instead of elsewhere where he truly belonged.

She said goodbye to the twilight as it vanished, the darkness swallowing it whole like a fish in the water. As she descended the steps, she whispered a prayer.

_Oh, goddesses. May he be safe._

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><p><strong>AN the II - **Please let me know if you preferred the previous or the rewritten version, what you didn't like about this one or what you liked about it. For me, I personally did not like the philosophical conversation Link and Zelda had about attaining self-awareness. Sounded very boring, but I needed a way to make them look wise AND a reason for why Link ran off into the forest. At the time, I thought it was pretty cool. Then I reread and thought less of it.

Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read the first chapter and all my lengthy author notes. And thank you for any future (honest!) feedback. :)


	2. Chapter 2: Solitary

**~ 2 ~**

**Solitary**

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><p><em>It is a tradition for the royal family to trail behind the ascending heir. And when you become queen, your mother and I will stand behind you. <em>

**~::-x-::~**

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The click of her heels sent echoes down the grand isle of the throne room. She gulped, swallowing the painful lump at the back of her throat, as she forced herself to walk in painful, heavy attire.

People stood and raised, their heads bowed as they clasped their hands together. All were silent, respecting the soon-to-be queen, so silent that she could hear the beat of her heart. For an inexplicable reason, she felt smaller as they stood for her, felt as if their eyes watched her every move, though they are shut or on the ground. And so she walked the long stretch of carpet before her. It was as large as Hyrule field itself, and each step she took did not bring her closer. Instead, she felt farther away, and she suddenly had the strong urge to hasten her pace and finish the whole ceremony in a blink of an eye.

At long last, her feet began to climb the mountain of stairs, and finally she made it at the top, the province representatives smiling to her and bearing her gifts. Each face she passed, she hoped to see a certain smile, a certain wink of an eye. But all she saw were unfamiliar faces—a tall man with a geometric patterned cloak in his arms, a stout man with a balding head holding a sheathed sword respectively, and lastly a young Zora with an oyster in the palm of his hands, its brilliant shine mesmerizing.

She sat down on the throne. The rest of the room sat down with her and waited patiently. Above the throne, the goddesses' blank eyes watched.

Auru placed the magnificent crown on her head. It was not he who normally put the crown on her head, but the successor before her. He was no longer with her, and the realization of him missing such an important event in her life sent pangs to her heart.

She almost broke down, but quickly retreated with stony composure. Her back straight, her hands politely in her lap, and her eyes looking at the large entrance, not staring at any of her subjects before her, for if she did, she was afraid that she would catch sight of a man similar to her father, and that would only bring tears to her eyes. Such tears would indicate how weak she was to control a kingdom at such a young age, such tears would show the world that she was not done mourning her father's death two long years ago, and such tears would bring herself her own misery.

So she held them back, unblinking, as the three province representatives approached her with their congratulations.

She hardly heard what the bald man said as he placed the Ordon sword in her left hand, did not even look as the small Zora placed the oyster in her other hand, and she did not blink an eye as the tall man placed the cloak around her shoulders, its long red cloth heavy and burdening.

"Your Grace," Auru said, lightly touching her shoulder.

It brought her out of her state and she rose. Everyone else rose with her as she bowed and they bowed back.

"The oyster, you must open it," the small Zora said.

Obediently, she opened it to reveal an ivory inside layered with lustrous pastel pinks, blues and greens. And in the middle laid a gigantic black pearl, shined and polished effectively. She could see her own reflection from it and never saw someone as miserable as she.

She tried to smile thanks, but it fell flat from her face like a bird in the tree. Ungraceful, undignified, hurtful.

The Zora abruptly looked away, hurt by her disappointment.

"The people of Hyrule," Aura boomed, "I present to you the new Queen of Hyrule, Queen Zelda Nohansen VI."

The applause from below was not as loud as she had expected it to be.

**~::-x-::~**

"M'lady," Auru said.

In the orange glow of the setting sun, Zelda looked away from the window's view of Castle Town and into Auru's aged eyes. Around them wrinkled crow's feet, a physical trait which had always been there since she met him as a little girl.

"Yes?"

"The country is pieced back together, and it has only been a month. Is that not an accomplishment? Especially for a monarch as young and inexperienced such as yourself." Auru walked across the room and sat by the old oak chess table, its players ready to march into battle.

She smiled. She knew he only gave her such compliments because, behind her soft smiles and crinkled eyes, she was tired and exhausted, stressed and anxious, yet somewhat proud and relieved that all was finished and completed.

She went to him and sat across. "For many weeks we sat here in this very room, discussing the state of the provinces and their civilians. The monsters are gone, but their ghosts are still present." With a slow movement, she plucked the king figure off the board and fiddled it in her hands, examining it as if it were a jewel. Tears welled up in her eyes as she set it down. "If only father could see what I have done and what I have not done. What do you think he would say to me? For what I have decided for our kingdom?"

Auru remained silent, considering what to say. It was such a broad question asked by Zelda, such a question that needed an appropriate answer, a _proper _answer that was honest and direct, for if he delivered incorrectly, she would never forgive herself for past mistakes.

"He would say you have grown into a young lady befitting of her title as queen. Responsible, wise and kind—"

"I am not kind. When the Zora boy gave me the pearl, I did not say thank you or even smile at the treasure."

"You were nervous."

"And when I was with Midna, I never truly thanked her enough for what she did for our world."

"Time was not in your hands."

"My thanks to the hero never reached his ears nor touched his heart. I am not kind, Auru, I am just a princess, and that is all I ever will be." Her hands trembled as she gripped onto her white skirts. With a shaking sigh, her shoulders sagged as she drew a deep breath, attempting to calm the storm within her.

"A queen," he corrected.

"The title is not what matters. Titles are useless. It is the person who bears the title that is significant."

"And the woman who bears the title of queen is one of the most insightful, compassionate and intelligent student I have ever taught in my years as a tutor."

Zelda nodded. There was no possible way she could win any argument against Auru, for he was as sharp as a soldier's blade in practically every subject matter. Why else had her father assigned him to be her personal tutor for innumerable years? And after all he had taught her, he was still here. Still teaching her the ways of a queen in making, still by her side as an advisor like he had done with her father before her, giving much needed advice in a confusing and difficult stage of her life.

"To dinner, Auru?" she asked, wiping her eyes with clumsy fingers.

"If it is what you wish, I shall call a server to arrange a meal. In your room, Your Grace?"

"That would be wise," she said.

It pained her for Auru to see her in such a weak state. He knew she was a weakling, a queen not ready to rule a kingdom in shatters. Yet, deep down, she knew she had the courage of a hero to continue to rule as she had done the previous days. Each day she wore the mask of a queen, and each day she felt it crack from pressure.

Now that the builders across the provinces reported successful projects, she could only hope the mask would be strong enough to last a year.

.

Dinners in her rooms were rare, and since they were so unusual, most of the castle staff grew a concern for their queen whenever she took a meal to her beds. If she was ill, depressed or possibly frustrated, they knew she was not in any good mood to show herself in public. So, being the kind people they were, they sent her up a tray with golden rims and bejewelled diamonds, of silver platters and bowls of roasted venison, boiled leeks, broiled ham and mushroom soup. In the middle of all, a porcelain vase of flowers sat, their bright yellow petals urging her to smile.

And so her lips curved upwards as she touched the soft petals, remarked at their effect on her.

"Thank you, Lila," she called to the maid. "But I am not hungry. Could you fetch me a heating pad for my feet?"

"Yes, Your Grace," the girl said.

She grabbed the iron handle and opened its jaws with a click of a button, scooping the burning embers into its mouth. Then she placed the hot metal beneath the duvet by her feet and tucked the covers over.

"Lila," Zelda said as the young maid gathered the tray in her hands. "Thank you. For everything."

Before the maid could leave, she turned and curtsied, her long blue skirt flowing as she rose up.

"It is our duty, Your Grace." The girl smiled softly. "What shall we do with your meal?"

"Do not let it go to waste. Feed it to anyone who is willing to eat all of it," she chuckled. "Good-bye, Lila."

The maid blushed. "You are very kind, Your Grace."

As Zelda drifted off to sleep, all she could thought about was what she had done in the past year. The surrendering, the conflict, the way she felt trapped in a tower with nowhere to go. And she knew for a certainty she did everything she did—good deeds and bad deeds—was for the betterment of her kingdom and her people.

.

In the light of the rising sun, air wraps around her like a cocoon of silk. It breezes by, slips across the skin of her arms, around her torso and flies above her head. It loops around and around, circulating until she is spinning slowly, dancing with it in midair. She laughs as the wind pushes her long hair, floating the soft strands until it is as if she is underwater. The dark tendrils swirl gently above her head, swishing this way and that. And then…

_Darkness._

It rises, swarms, consumes its entire path. She tries to run, tries to scream, but all she can do is stand as her kingdom darkens as if a storm brews from above. Her castle is the only light source, its stone walls and banners ablaze in the darkness that surrounds it.

She swallows painfully. She did not want this. She was not ready for this. Not ready to face the oncoming danger.

So she runs and hides, only to be found and captured by masked men, their long claws digging into her flesh. They drag her in chains to a barren room. The stone walls are a cold silence; they give her little comfort as she tries to sleep.

Sleep never arrives. Suddenly, she is ripped from the familiar bleakness and out in a large lit room. She is flying again and she smiles, loving the wind that greets her like an old friend. She readies an embrace, ready to dance again.

The wind is malformed. Dark, angry spears float with it and swirl, waiting for a command. Cold pierces her heart. Her body revolts, tries to fight against it as the coldness seeps through her skin, through her blood, to her heart. She wants to scream, but she cannot. She wants to cry for help, but she has no voice. She wants to fight against it, but it consumes her.

So she lies limp and watches as her limbs move against her will. A sword flies to her hand, an evil voice laughs from her mouth, and she walks to him, armed and ready.

She is in the air again, this time with her sword. Her hand wields it with deadly accuracy. Her stomach lurches as she flies down and aims for his heart.

All the while she is laughing.

And all the while his eyes dance with anger.

When their swords clash, he shouts:

_Zelda, wake up!_

.

She awakened with blood drained from her body, hands shaking and feet oddly cold. The hot pad placed at the bottom of the bed had not done its job throughout the night again. No matter how hard she tried to make sleeping comfortable, Zelda could not escape the inevitable nightmares occurring in her dreams. They were constant, and she feared they would last a lifetime.

The covers flew off her as she went about her day's preparations. The maids helped her get ready by lacing the back of her lilac dress first, and then placing the golden armour upon her shoulders. They braided her hair and twined it with ribbons. Finally, they added colour to her cheeks and to her lips with a dab of berry dye.

The royal guards opened her doors, and she stepped out into the halls, her posture impossibly straight as she glided down the halls.

She did her day just like any other day. She read letters of concerns from the province representatives, read laws and documents, sat on her high throne and heard petitions from the citizens of Hyrule. Most came from Castle Town with their worries mostly trivial. But she listened and offered solutions to their problems, and they would leave, smiling and happy with a newfound hope.

None really had much of an affect to her. Until one day, a man in humbled rags approached her, his head bowed as his large body, muscular and tall, stumbled to the base of the stairs and kneeled.

"Who might you be?" Zelda asked. "From Ordon, I presume?"

The man's light green eyes glanced at her, astonished from the accuracy of her observation. "Yes, Your Grace," he stuttered, bowing his head down again.

"Arise, young man, and tell me what it is you came all the way to Hyrule's castle," she said. "And please do tell me your name."

The man stood awkwardly, his feet shuffling side to side, and cautiously he stared up at her. "F-Fado, m'lady," he said, gathering his hands above the soft orange cloth of his belt. "It's my goat herder, y'see?"

"Goat herder?" Zelda asked, surprised. She did not know of a man who travelled all this way to Castle Town in an inquiry about a goat herder. The strangest thing she had ever heard was about a child—Malo, was it?—who requested five hundred thousand rupees in the start-up of his shop. And he lived in Castle Town, too.

"Yes, goat herder." The man nodded, still twisting the belt between his fingers. "Your Grace," he added nervously.

"Please expand upon the goat herder situation."

"He ran away a couple o' weeks ago. I never seen him since."

"Do you wish to gather a search party for this goat herder?"

"Y-yes, m'lady. That is why I came to the castle."

"Excellent. Do you know of his name? Where he was seen last? Any problems he had?"

"He was seen last talking to Ilia, a village woman and a close friend of his. I ain't an eavesdropper or nothin', but they were pretty secretive and close when I accidentally crossed them. At first I thought they was going to get married or some such thing as that, but for the next couple of days, Ilia sat moping around and Link was nowhere to be seen."

"Link?" Zelda gasped. "Link?"

"Yeah, that right there is the goat herder. My ranch is useless without him—"

Fado's words drowned out as her cold frail fingers reached her mouth, trying to contain the shock from within. The pronunciation of Link's name sent shivers up and down her spine, and she, clutching onto her scarlet red mouth, leaned forward and interrupted the blabbering man.

"This man, where is he? Do you know?"

Baffled, the man stood frozen in place. "E-excuse me? Your Grace, what's the concern for the goat herder?"

"Do you not know? Do you not know of his desire?"

"His desire, ma'am?" Fado drew away, his eyes widened with worry for the queen. Wearily, he stepped forward and placed his hand before him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm—," she sank back into her seat, "I'm fine."

"All right, ma'am," Fado breathed. "So, do y'know where he is?"

She spoke solemnly as she gazed into the clouds, their soft wisps gathering around the sun and shielding its rays. "He has run into the forest."

"The forest?" He asked eagerly.

"Yes, the forest." She stared at him, watching as the smile on his face wiped away into one wrinkled with worry. "I do not know which forest he has gone to, but he has left Ordon in the hopes of acquiring some solitude from all the events of the past."

His lips scowled as his eyes lightened with fury. "Bu-but why would he leave? Ordon needs him!"

"It is what he desired. And let us hope he can obtain it."

"This is ridiculous! Link leaving? He—" Fado clutched onto his hair. Exasperated, his hands whipped down as his face heated in anger. "He wouldn't do that!"

"He has, Fado," she said softly. Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks as she watched this young man squabble with himself, and as she looked onto his fumbled ramblings, all she could think of was how she was the one who delivered a blow to his hope.

"Why? Why?" he cried. "He had a happy life! He was supposed to marry Ilia and become the mayor of Ordon, and then maybe have a few kids and start his own farm and—"

She began to walk down the steps cautiously, unsure of how to approach him as his hands thrashed around. "Fado—" she started, but only to be stopped as he babbled.

"—and—and," he sniffed, "and he and I were supposed to grow some goats together and fish in the pond just like good ol' times. I just don't believe him goin' into the forest!"

With a comforting hand, she patted him on the shoulder and said soothing words: "He is a changed man and is no longer the boy you once knew. You and I cannot control what he will do and what he does. It is he who is his own master, and it is he who chose to go into the forest."

"Doesn't he want to return to a normal life? Why is he adventurin' when he already did it before?"

"This time," she smiled as he glanced up at her, "he will be at peace."

"I just don't get it." He wiped his nose with his forearm, and then his eyes brightened with a revelation. "Will he be back?"

She wanted to say she was uncertain, for it was the truth, yet Fado needed comforting words, and so she said the words he wanted to hear. "He will be back, I assure you."

"I hope it'll happen soon," he sniffled. "I'm gonna run out o' goats if he doesn't come and herd 'em!"

A feeling of relief overcame her, and for once she smiled in jovial laughter as the two held each other arm in arm like two long lost friends.

"Oh, I am sure you will do fine," she encouraged.

"Nu-uh!" Fado said. "Mayor Bo always gives me a heck of time when a goat escapes. It isn't my fault I don't have a way with animals the way Link does."

"With due time, they will respect you as a master." Gently, she rubbed his shoulder as they broke away from her comforting embrace.

The sobbing ceased as Fado's reddened face returned to its normal complexion. Embarrassed, he shifted away from her and gave her a soft smile. "My thanks, Princess Zelda. I-I apologize for such…rash behaviour."

"Do not even think about it, for it is a silly notion to stress over. Just be on your way and forget it ever happened if it helps you."

He nodded. "I will, Your Grace. And I'll listen to your wise words of advice and wait for Link to return."

"As will the rest of Hyrule."

Fado bowed and left the room, leaving Zelda to ponder. As she stared at the royal blue tapestries hanging from the tall ceiling of the throne room, she crossed her arms and thought of all the legends of old, when men in ragged animal skins wandered into the forest to face their true selves, and of how the men slowly grew insane as the trees whispered sweet nothings to him, of the past, of their misdeeds.

The terrible thoughts of Link's future forced her to leave the throne room and into the large library of the castle. She walked briskly to her desk and drew out parchments, a well of ink, and the quill of a hawk. It had been weeks since he had been gone, and she feared for the worst as she jotted onto the page, blotting her writing as she wrote messily. She wrote whatever came to mind and did not so much as glance at it when she was done.

Into the gardens she went, where the trees' leaves showed the hints of an early autumn— golds, reds, and oranges twisted together in an illusion of a setting sun. By a pile of fallen leaves lied the hawk grass swaying with the breeze. She picked it up and blew into it. Melodious sounds floated out of it, high and sweet as it serenaded to its listener.

A beautiful brown hawk landed on her forearm. It peered at her, its eyes curious as to who she was, but for whatever reason, it was not afraid of her.

"Hello," she hushed. "Will you deliver this to a...dear friend of mine?"

The hawk tilted its head as it stared at her. With her free hand, she cautiously attached the rolled parchment with a blue ribbon on its heel. As soon as her hand left, the hawk's great wings flapped into the air. She watched its silhouette against the sky, until it disappeared from sight and she was left alone. Silently, the trees all around her let loose their golden leaves and fluttered in the breeze. And she panicked.

The hawk did not know who Link was.

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><p><strong>AN - **Would you be interested in seeing Link's side of the story? Or is only Zelda's fine?


	3. Chapter 3: Lust Turns to Dust

_A/N -_ I've decided to create a one-shot for Link's time in the forest. In Absolute, I'm only going to write in the perspective of Zelda.

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><p><strong>~ 3 ~<strong>

**Lust Turns to Dust**

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><p><em>You cannot find love and force it to happen like a bird of prey. Love will always find you on its own, free as the feathers of a hawk that flies in the wind. <em>

**~::-x-::~**

She had fallen in love once. It came quick like a summer's wind during the hot seasons before it left her to wither and die, leaving her for the vultures to feast.

It was in the summer of her seventeenth year when her father invited Prince Arsen as a suitor for Zelda. He came in with his royal entourage, perfumed and plucked pristinely with a suit of vibrant silk, and with black hair that was darker than the ebony circlet upon his forehead. He walked in boldly, his eyes scouring the throne room with its large marble pillars and the huge monument above the throne. Zelda did not like the way he strutted in as if he owned the place, as if this were his castle in Esteria, when he was just a guest and a potential partner for the Crown Princess.

He knelt before her with the rest of his entourage. They wore matching golden and white uniforms which coordinated with his clothing.

"His Highness Prince Arsen III, may I present to you Her Highness Crown Princess Zelda VI," the royal caller announced.

"Greetings, Prince Arsen," Zelda began, coolly nodding her forehead. Her father was not to be seen as he had already examined the man's riches and behaviours closely and, deciding that he would be a great spouse, he sent him forth to Zelda, who would do her own judging without the biased pressures from the king.

Arsen stood and bowed along with his entourage. "Princess Zelda, the sixth of her name, I am pleased to finally meet your acquaintance. Your parents and mine have talked about our future marriage immensely."

"Potential," she corrected. She was still unsure if she should marry such a man who talked so briskly without a breath between sentences.

"Oh, yes. Potential, of course," he said before shooting off into a long speech. "I have heard such great things about you, Princess. My parents spoke that your beauty resembles the great Goddess Hylia in countenance, and I see now that they told no lies, for you are the first woman I have seen with such sapphire eyes the colour of oceans across the lands. And your hair is the colour of sweet chocolate in the shadows, and yet," he sighed with false longing, "it is the colour of bright strawberries in the sunlight."

Zelda watched stoically as he continued to compliment her looks. Such sweet talk would do nothing to please her, and after about five minutes of hearing him serenade her with honeyed words, he realized that she would not woo over him.

"So we only have a week to get to know each other. Let us make it last," he smiled and his grey eyes glimmered, true to the curve of his lips.

She returned his and nodded. "Yes, let us," she replied. "I will meet you in the sitting rooms in the evening. My best maid will accompany you during your stay here. Nina," she called to the maid standing by the wall. The young maid nodded in acknowledgement, averting her gaze from anyone who watched her. Arsen eyed her carefully from toe to head. "Please show Arsen to his rooms and ensure he will have a pleasant stay."

Zelda was young, and upon looking back at it, foolish and naïve to see what love really was. What she had with Arsen at the time was not true love but rather a strange infatuation for his mystical look. She loved his wavy black hair, how it resembled a raven's black feathers, but most of all, she was enchanted by his eyes which held irises of such a light grey that they almost rivaled the whites of snow. She loved the way he portrayed himself through confidence and cunning, but what she denied to see was what lied beneath the mask he wore. A week was not enough to fall in love and really get to know him as person. However, it was enough to fall under lust's spell which intensified during their prolonged meetings.

The first meeting took place during tea in the sitting rooms. They were alone with no watchful eyes. Arsen sat across from her, his legs lazily splayed out as he draped across the sofa, claiming that he was tired. That was when she saw how tall he was, how lean and long his limbs and torso were, and how his eyes lightened with passion as he spoke of ideas and told breathtaking stories with a voice of velvet. And, as Arsen brought up a unique trading route system to increase goods across nations, she saw how intelligent he was and how his ideas were truly brilliant. In a way, that brilliance opened a door to admiration for him. And, as each day passed, his handsome looks and romantic charm grew over her like tendrils of ivy until it covered her whole and wrapped her in a cocoon of green.

During his last few days, they ran off together and hid in an abandoned room of the castle with furniture covered in white sheets, curtains drawn and a dust of film on every surface. Dust floated in the air as the two burst in, slamming the door shut behind them. They giggled at their recklessness, their cheeks rosy and red at their closeness. Arsen drew in a breath once they stopped laughing, and she, in the heat of the moment, clutched onto his velvet shirt, pulled him towards her, and landed a kiss on what meant to be his lips. Instead, her lips landed on the smoothness of his cheek.

"What is wrong?" she asked. She laid a hand where she had kissed him and forced him to look into her eyes.

He averted her glare and smiled softly. "This is too soon. If anyone were to see us now, it would be the end of us."

"We are alone," she said coyly, stroking his cheek, "and I believe we are in the relationship stage for physical intimacy."

"That stage comes after marriage," he said promptly. He withdrew his cheek away from her touch and wiped the kiss she left furiously. "We should not be doing this. It is wrong and we are not even of age!" he hissed.

"One more year is hardly anything at all," she said. The strap of her dress fell off her shoulder and she yanked it up with irritation written over her face. "Lovers together lay down together. Do you not love me as I love you?"

"We shall wait until marriage," he replied with an expression cold as ice. He soothed down the fabric she soiled and walked out of the room with the same careful steps he took when she first saw him.

She watched him wander down the halls through the crack of the door. "Then I shall have to marry you, dear Arsen," she murmured, and slowly, she felt her heart loose the flair it had moments ago. With sad steps, she returned to her rooms.

The next day she could not find Arsen anywhere, not even in their secret spots where he told her vivid tales and recited poetry with that velvety voice of his murmuring in her ear. In the scented gardens, both the indoors and the outdoors, he was not to be seen admiring the beauty of the roses he showered her with days ago. He did not sit in the dining halls during meals where many dined and shared a merry moment. His presence was not even in the sitting rooms where honoured guests passed their time.

She had news to tell him, news that she was sure he would be overjoyed with, for she, after pondering for a split second, hastily made the judgement that they were two halves of a whole, convinced that the goddesses sent him to Hyrule with a purpose. And that purpose was to fall in love and marry.

Alas, she had somewhat found him. She accidentally came across two young guards gossiping in the kitchen area. She stood by the threshold of the door to hear what they said.

"Prince Arsen must be having a wild time with the princess," one chuckled.

The other moaned hoarsely, emitting sounds which sounded animal-like until it escalated into panting. The two burst into laughter.

"I would be the happiest man alive if I could share the bed of the princess for one night," the first one said.

Zelda's heart skipped a beat. She was somewhat confused as to what they talked about. She had never stepped into Arsen's room, yet alone shared his bed. She grew angry at the thought for he had a princess with him willing to embrace him whole.

"The closest we will ever get is standing outside Arsen's door," the second guard said with a joking tone.

Having enough, Zelda emerged from her shadows and walked in, standing out in the kitchen's shabby interior with her bright red dress.

"What are you gentlemen discussing about?" she said coolly, walking to the counter. A loaf of bread with a knife sticking into its flesh caught her attention. She gripped onto the knife and cut herself a piece.

The two men grew silent and paled at her appearance. The first one to act was the one who joked. He got off his chair and pushed it away, kneeling to the cold ground, his hands shaking and breath halted. "Your Grace," he mumbled. The other man followed his example, his chair scrapping the floor as he bent down in respect, echoing his comrade's words.

"Arise, men," she smiled, taking a bite of her bread. "Now tell me, what of Arsen's rooms?"

"He has taken great pleasure with a lady in his beds," the first man said. He stood on his feet and averted her gaze.

"Actually, we were guessing it was you—"

"Rondel!" the guard said, elbowing the man in the ribs indicating for him to cease his words.

"I have never set a foot in Prince Arsen's rooms," said she, her lips pursed as she went about thinking. "You sure there was a lady with him?"

"Of course," Rondel said. "It kept us up most nights." He grinned a yellowed smile.

The other guard rolled his eyes at his friend. "If it was not you, malady, then perhaps it was the servant girl Nina. She always is going into his rooms, that one, when the prince has his own staff for his needs. She is just a tour guide, not his maid."

With that, Zelda felt her heart drop into an abyss. Her eyes flashed furiously as she gazed at the two guards before her. "Is this the truth?"

"No guard will lie to the queen, Your Grace," the guard said. Rondel nodded beside him, still smiling and taking great delight in such gossip.

"I will have to see it with my own eyes to believe such accusations," Zelda replied, though, at the back of her mind, she believed them to be true.

"If you want, Your Grace," the guard stepped forward, "we can show you."

To pry within one man's private territory went against her morals, but her suspicions forced her to nod her head and reject the guilt lingering in her chest. The three of them, Rondel and the other guard named Theodore, walked up the steps in the guest's towers, quiet as mice in the night. They did not speak as Rondel led them through, his eyes sharp and quick as he inspected each hall before motioning for them to continue forth. It was ironic that she, a princess of her own castle, should be sneaking around and snooping at her guest's rooms. Nonetheless, they finally reached their destination at the top of the tower where the flickering of firelight emitted at the bottom of the door.

Rondel placed his ear to the door and motioned her to kneel down. She did as she was told and gazed into the keyhole, seeing nothing but the dark green couch and a bare foot of a woman's. She stifled a gasp and made her ears listen.

"I will be sad when you leave tomorrow," the young woman said, and it was a very familiar voice, high and sweet like the song of a lark's.

"You have nothing to fear, Nina," Arsen's voice soothed, "for you will be coming along with me, my sweet Ordona pumpkin."

Shadows moved against the walls into a form of two lovers in a passionate embrace. They separated as the head of the shorter shadow gazed up into the eyes of the taller one.

"Do you really mean…?" Nina started.

"I will decline the princess's request for marriage and elope with you."

"But your father," cried the maid, "would he be angered at such sudden love?"

"Please, my pumpkin," Arsen said, "I am the youngest prince of seven. The only son father truly cares about is the eldest."

A hushed breath and the sound of lips pressed together followed. "I accept!" cried the young maid, joyous and voice shaking. The sound of happy sobs emitted throughout the room until Zelda felt like crying herself.

Not waiting to feel her heart tear in two, she left the lovers with bitterness and spite in her eyes.

.

Graciously, he had left with the maiden Nina in his arms. Zelda pretended she did not hear his words of betrayal to the young lady, pretended that he was nothing more than a suitor rather than a man she lusted for. He gave his farewell, politely told her that another love had found him and thus any advancement in their relationship ceased. She took it calmly, but within her, she felt as if she were crumbling apart like the stones of an old tower.

She hid her inner turmoil well and only behind closed doors did she cry out in pain. Each day, as she looked into the mirror, she did not see a princess but a woman with empty eyes and sallow cheeks. It took her months to get over her heartbreak. To comfort herself, she thought of how Nina was not as pretty as she, for her plainness brought her a feeling of superiority over the maid. And yet, as she pondered in silence, she knew that Arsen did not love Nina for her looks but for her friendly disposition and carefree nature. Reluctantly, she had come to the conclusion that a princess, proper and elevated, would be an unwise match in love with Arsen, for he was the youngest of princes and the most wild and rebellious. Nina would provide a life of joy for him, whereas if he had chosen a life with her, he would be shackled to the throne of Hyrule.

There was a picture of him she had kept during these months. It lied in a golden frame, surrounded by diamonds that did not outshine his breathtaking appearance. And each day, she would take the picture out and trace her fingers over the curve of his lips, pretending that he was with her. As her hands skimmed the smooth glass on a sunny afternoon, she found that she could not recall a single character trait of his besides him being beautiful and intelligent. And that was the day she knew she had never loved him but _lusted _for him with his ebony hair, snow white eyes and his confident charm.

It was unlike her in her heartbroken state to throw the painting into the fountain. She expected herself to whisk it across the room, letting the glass case shatter, the gold to dent and the diamonds to scatter. Yet she climbed out of her bed in the middle of the night and set the painting beneath the cool surface of the fountain in the garden. It was not completely gone for she knew some gardener would find its discarded carcass and properly dispose of it, and then it would be lost forever.

**~::-x-::~**

The queen sat in the library amongst the walls of bookcases piled high. Her legs dangled from a spiral staircase, which was like a stairway to heaven with its tall height, and she looked down to the hardwood flooring of the library as a servant waved to her from below.

"Queen Zelda," he called, bowing to her. "There is a letter for you."

"From whom?" she asked, placing the ribbon between the pages of her book. She closed it shut and walked down the steps. The servant thrust his hands forwards, bearing the letter she immediately recognized. It was _her _letter, the letter which she sent Link weeks ago. Anxiously, she grabbed it from his hands and scanned the page. Her heart fell. There was no response but her handwriting, discussing the dangers of living in the woods with scurried words blotted and dripped with ink.

"Check the back, Your Grace," the servant said quietly.

She did as she was told, flipping the paper over to see crude drawings in black, crumbling dust. She gasped for there on her own parchment were words written in charcoal.

.

_Dear Zelda,_

_It is an honour to be concerned by you. Yet it worries me that you continue to fret after all these months. I have done nothing disastrous and have not been affected by the forest's hypnotic silence nor will I ever be. I do not like to admit that there is a foreboding loneliness lingering in the air and it frightens me so. If you could, I would not mind if you sent another letter. _

_Keep calm, Zelda, and remember that I will return someday._

_Link_

_P.S. – Since I had no paper, I used yours to write with charcoal. Forgive me for such informalities. _

_._

She smiled. Not only had he received and read her letter, but he had also written her back and requested for more. Of course she would continue to send him letters until he returned home.

"Jared," she said to the serving boy, "please gather me parchments and charcoal that does not crumble along with a parcel of raw meat."

He returned moments later as she jotted down quick words of her day and the state of Hyrule after he had gone. After she was done, she squeezed all the contents but meat into a light box. They went outside into the garden, the chilly air biting at their bare cheeks. Cold mists floated from their mouths as they breathed and she smiled, for the crisp air always refreshed her so. The hawk grass still grew underneath the tree and was the only plant that did not die from the coming winter. She picked the stern stem of the plant and blew into the hawk-shaped leaf. And, suddenly, a weight fell upon her arm and the hawk gazed at her, still curious as to who and what she was. She stroked its feathers, admiring how soft and beautiful they were.

"Hello," she said, feeding him the meat. The bird gulped it down and then gazed at her, expecting for more. She feed him another slice. "So we meet again."

Jared tied the box onto its feet and she let it fly. It was like an angel as it flew. Its great wings a wondrous silhouette against the bright blue sky, and once its black shape disappeared, she sighed and said to the serving boy, "Hawks are often considered as bearers of awakening and messengers of wisdom and truth."

"They are also better messengers for doves as they are strong and can fend off other predators," Jared said. They returned to the castle's interior. The warmth of the fires seeped through the coldness of their cloaks. He bowed to her. "Is there anything else you need?"

"The hawk grass is dying with the coming winter. Please provide me of an instrument that emits the same sound as the leaf of the grass."

Without any questions, Jared bowed. "Yes, Your Grace."

Though the forest's whispers did not get to Link yet, she could only hope to prevent it by giving him company through letters. The first sign of insanity was always the loneliness. Such was the price of living with the beauty of nature.

* * *

><p><em>AN -_ The quotes at the top of the chapter are the wise words of Zelda's parents. My take on flowery language is looking pretty good if I do say so myself! :D By the way, Arsen isn't in any of the Zelda games. He's actually an original character of mine. :)


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